Hook's Shadow
by Azul Bloom
Summary: Peace of mind is beyond the captain's grasp.


**Hook's Shadow**

Beta: moshesque  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Hook/Wendy

A/N: Written in response to a challenge from the community 'the nether land' at Dark-fic...ish. Psychological Torture. Edited to fit a PG-13 rating.

Hook lay in his bed, still and quiet as the dead, his eyes open wide with no sleep being granted for the night. He shifted his gaze to the figure lying on the mat on the floor, her melodious breathing being the only sign of life in the room. He envied her for she never had trouble drifting into sleep. Then again, the boy did not haunt her like he haunted him.

His eyes darted to the right corner of the room, but the rest of him remained motionless. Pan. He was back. He was there in the room with them. Mocking him from the shadows of that corner, snickering to himself about a prank in mind, a fight in plan. How did he always manage to sneak aboard? How did he manage to enter the room when no window was left open and Hook's men were on constant guard? Blast the boy.

Wendy stirred from her sleep, sensing her captain in distress again. His hook shined against the reflection of the few slits of silver that penetrated the window panes and she could tell the boy was back. She quickly grew fearful for her captain and somewhat annoyed with the impetuous boy. During the day, he could visit all he liked and play and fight to his heart's content. In the night, only when he needed comforting, but not when he would come to torment her captain so. Not when his presence would make Hook quiver in his thoughts and feel rage in his blood.

Out, she thought. Leave.

But he didn't listen and Peter swooped right past Hook and the later leapt at him, his claw ripping through the air and reaching out for flesh and blood, but it came back to him swiftly and clean. The boy got away.

"Captain?" She finally spoke against her better judgment figuring that Pan was gone for the night. Her voice was as soft and lulling as she could manage.

"He was here again." He huffed through clenched teeth, now sitting up and compulsively rubbing his hook with his one hand. Just as easily as Pan had stowed away, he fled. Damn the child and his hellish trickery. Was he boy or sorcerer? Intangible beast. Horrid nightmare of his cursed existence. No solace could there be for Hook until Pan was gone and gone for good. He was, after all, that final piece. The one thing beyond his strangled hold under which all things around him were. His ship, his crew, the seas and even the girl. The girl.

"But no worries, my beauty," he said, regaining his sultry composure and searching for her face through the dark. "I won't ever let him steal you back. I don't think he even wants you back," he mocked.

Noting the drastic change in his tone, Wendy sighed. It would've been best for her to pretend to remain asleep, but then again, he would've probably woken her up anyway and dragged her to bed with him. She didn't even entertain the notion that it would be a sweet embrace this time, for whenever Peter visited him, he was forceful and brutal, inflicting bruises and sometimes even drawing blood, although he never permanently scared her. Upon the most tormenting of episodes, he inflicted great pain uponher body, continuously coming up with creative means of taking pleasure from her.

"Pity the eunuch does not know what he misses," he whispered deeply and began to undo his trousers. "Come here."

vvvvvvvv

Morning came and Wendy woke before Hook, so she remained in place as still as possible until finally, he stirred and came to, groggily mentioning that she must feel extremely lucky for having slept in a proper bed for the night. She smiled weakly in concurrence and got up, reaching for her nightgown and informing her captain that she was to take a bath. With a flicker of his hand he gave her permission and she opened the door just enough to peak her head out and request to the guard that a bath be drawn for her.

Hook fastened his trousers and lit a cigar, sitting at his desk to busy himself with his maps while waiting for Smee. The bo'sun entered with Starkey and Cecco trailing behind him with the bath water. They set out to fill the tub while Wendy stood behind the dressing screen. Smee announced that it was ready and turned away towards the captain asking if he was to bring in his breakfast now.

The pirates left and Hook returned to his business as Wendy bathed. Hook focused his attentions on the one map that forever remained laid out on his desk. The map of the island at which they were anchored. The island he had named "The Neverland".

The one thing that still truly angered him about Wendy was her inability to recall where Pan's hideout lay. From the very day he realized the boy had brought a girl to the island, he did not rest until he managed to capture her and seal her up aboard the ship, determined to use her as bait to lure Pan into a battle or have her lead him right to Pan's secret home. But the girl was stronger than he expected and she never revealed the location, not to this very day. In fact, by the odd looks she gave Hook whenever he'd inquire about it, he was sure that the island's amnesia spell had already claimed that memory. But Pan had come for her just as Hook had expected and he'd managed to capture him as well. Wanting to savor the sweetness of his victory, he ordered shackles for the boy's wrists and ankles and had his men place him under lock and key in the deep dank bowels of the ship.

But all that went to hell, for the boy was just a devil sprite. In the morning, Hook was stunned when he sauntered down into the hull expecting to see his prized capture and finding nothing more than an empty cell and a silent echo of that hellish laughter. He'd slashed his hook at anything that stood in his way - even his dogs - and kicked objects left and right, crying out to the skies that Pan would meet his end one day. And that was not one isolated incident; one whim of luck for the boy. Pan tried on repeated occasions to save his little friend and every now and then he fell into a trap of some sort. He'd be caught and locked away, with increasing bondage every time, but the outcome was always the same. An empty cell, discarded chains and shackles and that taunting, cocky, maddening chuckle.

But slowly, Peter's rescue attempts grew more distant and less passionate, until eventually, he only came to the ship to have a game. Of course, he still acknowledged the girl and stopped to socialize with her whenever Hook was out of sight, but it was not at all like before. Perhaps he had forgotten that it was he who'd originally kidnapped her and brought her to the Neverland. Perhaps he had forgotten that she was his responsibility. In any case, Pan simply forgot to rescue her. Being no more use to him as bait, Hook had a choice to make: feed her to the beasts of the waters or keep her as the ship's whore. A wench on a ship was bad luck but Hook was never one to give into superstition and lady luck was definitely not his ally. He opted for the later and bedded the child to prepare her for her new life, but when it came time to give her to the rest of the crew, something within him cried out and he changed his mind, ripping her away from his dogs' hungry prying hands to keep her for himself. She'd been a weeping mess at first, but eventually she grew to accept her position as the captain's doxy. She even seemed to enjoy being by his side, something that would have brought him extreme pleasure if only the boy would remember what she had meant to him.

Wendy finished her bath and dressed, fixing her hair up into a ponytail to fall down loosely just like Hook liked. The crème-toned blouse she wore fell just a bit below her shoulders with a long red skirt tied around her waist and dropping down to her shins. Her outfit teasingly outlined the contours of her beautiful feminine body. She took her needlework and Hook's crimson coat and sat on her cushion near the wall opposite of Hook's own seat, darning his clothing with careful precision, making sure not to injure the fine lines of his lavish coat or maul the fabric with needless pricks of the needle and thread.

Smee returned with their meal and Wendy laid her work aside to set the table. Hook rose from his desk and took his seat at the head of the table allowing the girls to serve him before she took her own seat next to him. They ate their breakfast in silence, until Hook finally spoke. "How did Pan get in here last night?" he said, with his silver goblet at his lips.

Wendy placed her fork down and stared at her plate. She hated being suspected and no matter how implausible the situation, she was never sure if he believed her until later when he'd punish her for 'lying' to him. "I don't know. Perhaps he stowed away before lockdown and hid until we fell asleep."

He eyed her with skepticism. He knew she still harbored feelings for the boy, even if he was still very much a boy and she was well within her teens. But she had been with him at all times the previous day, so he saw no way in which she could have aided the boy this time. Content to know she was not involved, he returned to his meal in silence and allowed her to do the same.

After breakfast, Bill Jukes, Albino, and Starkey escorted Wendy to the island to guard the prisoner as she directed the gathering of fresh vegetation and water. As she walked towards Hook's quarters, a faint tune could be heard riding the cool winds of the afternoon. It was dark and beautiful, immediately capturing her thoughts and senses, whisking her away to "Neverland", where a mere happy thought could lift your feet off the ground and carry you off into the heavens, smiling and laughing all along the way. She smiled to herself, realizing that Hook was in a pleasant mood.

She entered the room as quietly as possible so as to not disturb her captain from his fleeting moment of tranquility and returned to her darning, finding it very hard not to close her eyes and allow the sultry song to envelope her entirety. Sometimes she couldn't help but steal glances of Captain Jas. Hook as he sat at his instrument, his face a perfect image of solemn peace as he strummed an ethereal melody from the mundane pile of wood and string, regardless of his handicap.

The melody continued even after he looked up and noticed she'd closed her eyes and remained still, a quaint little curve at the corner of her lips. "You enjoy that song, don't you?" he asked calmly as the final notes floated into the wind.

Wendy's eyes flew open and she immediately resumed the darning. "I'm sorry," she quickly yelped. "I have not fouled up your coat. You may inspect it if you like."

He grinned, reveling in her rush to appease him despite the fact that it was her admiration of him that caused her to deviate from her chores. He stood up slowly, pushing his seat back with a quiet rasp of the legs on the wooden floor. She dared not look up as he made his way to her, fearing what might befall on her for having forgotten her chores for a moment. But to her surprise, he knelt by her sidegently tilting her chin up with his hand, turning her eyes to meet his. The look he gave her was a subtle expression of endearing emotion. "Why do you enjoy my playing so?" he whispered, his fingers lightly gracing her skin.

"Because," she whispered back, entranced by his demanding gaze. "You create a world of beauty when you sit at your harpsichord. No woes. No threats. Just you. Just the man that is Captain Hook."

He chuckled below his breath, a quaint little smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He edged in closer and Wendy shut her eyes, awaiting the tender touch he so rarely gave her, which made it all the more endearing every time he did. But the warmth of his hand was ripped away and she fumbled forward, opening her eyes to see him rush to his feet and to the door, screaming at the top of his lungs that Pan was back and for his crew to arm themselves and fire at will.

She lowered her gaze to the floor as he listened to him roar 'Fire!' from outside on the deck. She closed her eyes, finding it a bit difficult to keep herself from weeping. Pan was visiting more frequently as time progressed and she feared every time the boy and the man were both present for whenever they met, they truly tried to do harm to each other. Smee had given her a detailed account of the most horrid of occasions, which was years before the pirates pillaged the ship she had been traveling in. The crew had woken up to find their captain gone. Pan had apparently appeared in his cabin and lured him out his window and to the depths of the island's forest. Dusk rolled by and the lookout had spotted Hook stumbling about the shore so Smee and a few more set out to retrieve him. But when within his sight, Hook had growled and wailed threats at them all with his right forearm stuck inside his coat, the fabric over it drenched and dripping crimson. That was an undeniable sign of the tragic end of things to come.

Out on the deck, Hook hurried about, pointing to the east and lining the path of Pan as the boy darted around the ship and surrounding area.

"Over here, codfish!" Peter mocked. "Too slow in your old age?"

"Bring the brat down!" Hook bellowed. Bill Jukes strived to aim Long Tom to follow the path that Hook pointed out. He fired repeated shots into the air, while the rest of the crew scrambled about, yelling and cursing, firing their own pistols at their target.

Smee came running up with the captain's rifles and Hook fired at Peter, having better aim than any of his worthless dogs. But Peter leapt backwards and dived underwater, coming up the other side of the ship and kicked Hook down. The captain stumbled onto his knees and turned around, firing once again but Pan was gone, leaving behind a mocking chuckle once again.

He jumped to his feet and screamed at the crew for their incompetence. Wendy made herself as small as possible when he stomped back in and marched straight to his desk, knocking everything off and continuing his rampage until he tired himself out and finally sat down.

She kept her eyes on her work, her movements slow and scarce for she could barely align the needle with the stitch. She would have left, but any overt motion on her behalf and she'd only draw attention to herself. In incidents like this, it was best to leave him to his fits.

vvvvvvvv

It was quiet and dark. Nothing too disturbing about the night, except for him. Her eyes flew upon, sensing he was up and simply staring at her from his squatted position next to her mat, cloaked in the heavy darkness of the night. But she could make out his shape and she felt his restlessness. He was back.

She didn't want to make the mistake of calling out the wrong name, for Hook would surely lash out at her if she did so. "Peter?" she whispered hesitantly.

But he remained mute, tilting his head to the side as he continued to stare at her. She sat up and turned to the right wall, noting that the window was open. "Peter, are you okay?"

He still didn't reply.

"Are you all right?"

No answer yet.

She got up and reached for a candle, striking a match and lighting it. She turned around but he was gone. He hid behind the armoire, peeking out at her as if afraid or perhaps just having a bit of fun with her.

"Peter, come out of there. You have woken me up and you best have a valid reason," she whispered stearnly, not wanting to wake up the guards that remained outside the room.

He slowly emerged from behind the piece of furniture, and planted his bottom on the elegant bed. "Where's the cod fish?" he asked, jumping up and down a bit on the mattress.

"Hook…" She thought for a moment. "…he's out on the island, searching for you I suppose."

"What a silly thing to do. He should be here. I'm here!"

"Well, he very well didn't know that you would be here tonight now did he?" She placed the candle on the night stand next to the bed and sat down on the opposite side of him. "Why are you here tonight?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno." He jumped up and skipped about the room. "I couldn't sleep and was rather bored. Do you want to go and play with the stars? There's a lot of them out tonight! It'll be fun!"

"No Peter. I'm quite tired." She was at a loss. She couldn't very well follow him out the window and fall into the ocean, but if she didn't comply with his whims, he might leave, and she couldn't allow that either. "Look, Peter," she said, thinking fast. "The captain will be gone for the night and I'd so love for you to keep me company. You see, I get rather lonely when Captain Hook leaves. Would you be so kind as to indulge a lady for the night?"

He stopped his prancing to ponder her request. It would be a mighty big risk to remain in Hook's private quarters. What if the captain came back while he'd fallen asleep? He'd surely be done for. But then again, the look on Hook's face if he knew that Peter had slept in his very bed while the former had braved the discomforts of the island for the night would be quite funny! Perhaps even worth any danger. Besides, this Wendy-lady seemed to like him, and there was many a time that she'd stopped Hook from running him through with her desperate pleading. He was sure he could trust her, even if she was the Captain's wench.

"Very well," he said as Wendy lifted the covers to help him in. He started to climb in, but stopped and retreated. "No, you take his bed. I can sleep in yours." Peter was a gentleman, when he bothered to remember his manners.

Wendy smiled kindly. "Thank you, but I'm well in my own bed. You take it."

"No," he insisted, and since it was clear that he would not give in, she consented to sharing the bed. They both crawled in from their respective sides. Once Peter had his fill of rolling about, he nuzzled in and closed his eyes, bidding the lady a good night.

"Goodnight, Peter," she said and blew out the candle. Loud hoarse snoring followed after a few minutes and then he moved in closer to her, seeking the warmth of her skin and nuzzling himself into the curve of her body, his head resting on her soft bosom. She wrapped him in her arms and tenderly stroked his curls, listening to his peaceful slumber. No nightmares for the rest of the night. The boy was content.

A few hours before dawn, Wendy slowly removed her arm from under Hook's head and gently got out of bed, taking great care to not disrupt his slumber. She returned the candle to where the captain had left it and closed the window. She then took one more look at Hook's face; somewhat peaceful, somewhat distressed, and returned to her mat on the floor.

She lay down and remained motionless, her gaze resting on the dark nothing of the quiet night, the tender feeling of Hook's body cradled in her arms still warm in her skin. But her simple smile faded as the fears slowly consumed that fleeting illusion of serenity. She gradually allowed her thoughts to wander, reflecting on things that might soon come to pass. It was all so very frightening, and too destructive to contemplate, but the more she tried to push those demons away, the louder they murmured in the back of her mind. So she didn't fight them this time and instead turned to them; faced them and demanded to know. She questioned that tormenting future; those fears to unravel. How long could this go on, she pondered. How long would the men indulge the captain's delusions and obsession? The boy responded to her, yes; and most often did as she asked, but would he not one day decide to follow his urges to their full completion? When would it be too much for the men to bear? They needed a strong captain, a leader; and Hook was the best they had ever known, but how long would that matter if they saw his grasp on reality weakening more and more each day? Smee calmed their concerns over Hook's capability of leadership, but how long could he do so? They both knew their efforts would some day be insufficient. And what if one night she awoke to find the boy returned to stay, and Hook gone for good? What would be of him? And what would be of her?


End file.
